


Seven of Cups

by alianora



Category: Lost
Genre: Alternate Canon, fractured fairy tales, morbid and creepifying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 03:06:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alianora/pseuds/alianora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While she is gone, she dreams. And her Prince isn't coming, as he has been killed. The Hanged Man haunts her dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven of Cups

Title: Seven of Cups  
Author: alianora  
Fandom: Lost  
Spoilers: AU during/after All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues  
Summery: While she is gone, she dreams. And her Prince isn't coming, as he has been killed. The Hanged Man haunts her dreams.

 

She does not know where she is, but she knows she is dreaming.

She doesn't know who he is, but goose bumps shiver down her spine at the feel of his breath (no, he cannot be breathing) on her neck. His hands smooth over her hair, and he whispers something. She cannot understand the words, but arches under his hands as he runs talented fingers down her body (her mind insists on adding music, the quiet strum of a guitar).

A part of her mind, the part that is awake, or knows she is asleep, is screaming at her that this is wrong. That he is not there.

When he lifts his sightless eyes (bound shut, closed forever) to her face, she just touches his face, as that part of her mind whimpers in terror. Her sleeping mind won't let her wake up, so she lightly kisses the deep burn around his neck and giggles soundlessly at his inhalation (his chest was still when last she saw him, and he gagged as he fell).

Her real self fights against her bonds, even as her dreaming self thanks him for not being afraid (you don't scare me), and smiles as he offers her a knife (I can only carry three hundred myself).

Hands hold her down, even as pain pricks at both sides of herself (he had never felt a baby kick before, and the look on his face was amazing) and she feels like she might come apart at the seems.

He is still there, holding her, telling her silly stories about his days as a kid (he persists in wearing a catholic school-girl's uniform in her head, and he laughs at the image), as part of her shudders in the pain that rips across her abdomen (it will kill her, and she welcomes the chance to stay with him).

She fights to stay with him, but there is a flutter across her lips even as the pain crawls down the back of her legs, and she cries out (a sound echoed by a small tiny voice somewhere) as she is ripped from him (and it is ripped from her insides and she knows she cannot stay).

The other, the malevolent one, is grinning down at her as he holds a tiny squirming body. There is blood on his lip, and she realizes that he awoke her with a kiss.

And even as she accepts the little one from him (evil, foul, harsh), a tear makes it way down her face, dropping onto the ground for the prince who will never again awaken (he was lost in trying to save her).

And she cries.

END


End file.
